A Perfect Match
by QuasiOuster
Summary: AU, non-zombie. Michonne and Daryl meet unexpectedly at a Halloween party and discover the serendipity of their compatibility.


**_Author's Note: Still no ownership of The Walking Dead, and no infringement is at play with regards to my crazy musings._**

**_Here's some more Halloween madness! I was going to make this a multi chapter story, but I'm not going to kid myself about what kind of time I (don't) have to work on something like that. Thanks for reading, and let me know if you got a kick out of it. _**

* * *

><p>Daryl leaned against the wall checking out the crowd around him and wondering how he'd let Rick convince him to participate in this dumb event. At least he didn't look as ridiculous as some of the fools around him with their makeup and colorful outfits and stupid props.<p>

Halloween wasn't the worst holiday of the year. Hell, back in the day, he and Merle would have a good time cutting up and wreaking all kinds of havoc the one night of the year that pranks were expected. This thing, though, with the games and costumes and trick-or-treating, it felt like a big waste of his time. Growing up, nobody had ever even bothered doing those things with him, even when he had been young and wanted to dress up and run around like the other kids in his neighborhood. So he just stopped caring at some point.

He pulled at the t-shirt he wore underneath his leather jacket, self-conscious about how tight it was across his chest. His pants were similarly more snug than he was used to or liked and the gel in his hair felt really weird the way it was styled to fit his overall look. That's what he got for letting Carol pick out his costume. And even then, it had been the only idea they could agree on. Of course, she had abandoned him to mingle amongst the crowd, her badass Rambo getup receiving a lot of attention and praise. Rick, dressed as some sort of zombie, had disappeared too with a Batman version of Asskicker and Carl the ninja. They wanted to get a jump on taking advantage of the kids' section of the party. That left him to his own devices for a while. He lingered along the edge of the crowd with his warm cup of weak punch, stewing in the strangeness of his evening.

So focused on brooding, he didn't notice the enthusiastic approach of another person until the kid had barreled into him and latched onto his leg. Daryl's first instinct was to violently shake off the offending intrusion, but when he saw that it was a little boy, no older than three or four, he forced himself to relax and figure out how to deal with the miniature invasion of one.

The kid looked up at him with wide, joyous eyes and Daryl couldn't suppress a returning grin. The little guy had on a long, brown trench coat over dark pants and a black and pink top. He sported some serious boots for a child so small, partially covered by plastic-looking shin guards. A black headpiece covered the back of his head and stretched across his forehead. His curls had been styled to drape carelessly over his headband. One gloved hand was wrapped around Daryl's leg while the other held a short, plastic staff; at his hip, several playing cards were pinned to the coat.

"Andre!" a voice called from a short distance. Daryl turned his attention from the boy to the scurried footsteps coming towards them, probably the kid's exasperated mother coming to retrieve him.

He raised his head to greet the urgently approaching women and froze. After long seconds of staring at her, he wished he'd had some sort of warning about the force of nature that had stumbled across his path.

The first thing he noticed was her fierce, steady eyes tracking the location of her child. They blazed with a cold passion and he got caught up in their intense beauty. Then he noticed her shock of white hair, or rather, her color-sprayed dreadlocks tied up to resemble an intimidating yet striking Mohawk. She also wore a long trench coat with dark clothing underneath like her son, but her coat was leather and her pants and top were tight and flattering with a generous, but not indecent, focus on her toned curves. The little makeup she wore made her eyes stand out even more and highlighted her full, inviting lips.

The woman was focused on her child, but she'd gotten his full attention just by existing. When he registered that he was gawking at her, he flushed and quickly looked away as she pulled her child from him.

"You know you're not supposed to run off, Peanut," she chided, straightening the boy's outfit and checking for injury. Satisfied, she finally looked up at Daryl. If she had any particular reaction to him, she hid it well.

"I'm sorry about that." Looking Daryl up and own, she smiled bright and beautiful. "I'd say that I don't know why my son would misbehave like this, but now I get it." The little boy had let go but he was grinning and pointing at Daryl, babbling about the fake metal claws strapped to Daryl's hands as the final, important feature of his simple costume.

"Wolverine, Mama," he squealed.

Michonne chuckled and Daryl joined in. "I see, Peanut." She held a pail in one hand, full of a few treats and toys, and took her son's tiny hand in the other.

Daryl figured that if he tried talking intelligently to this woman he would fail completely, so caught off guard was he. She stood in front of him in her striking costume and even more powerful demeanor, but watching over her son with such protective tenderness that the contrast touched him. He usually wasn't one to get all caught up in feelings and stuff, but he had no interest in denying the indisputable facts staring him in the face.

This woman was a straight up goddess.

Instead of lingering on his reaction to her, he focused on the kid, Andre—or Peanut to his mom. That he could handle. "And who we got here? Gambit?" Andre nodded. "Lookin' good, little man." The boy smiled, now a little shy at Daryl's attention. He stood closer to his mom, though he kept his gaze on Daryl as he thanked him quietly.

"He loves the X-Men," the woman explained. "He insisted on the outfit—for me too," she chuckled.

"Well, you're lookin' good too," Daryl said before he could stop his stupid mouth from running away from him. He flinched. "I didn't mean it like—"

"I get it," she replied. Her piercing gaze honed in on him, but there was no anger to her expression. Amusement, yes, but not rage. Daryl felt thankful since something told him this was not the kind of woman anyone should make angry. "It was either Storm or Nightcrawler, and I'm afraid my costuming skills aren't at that level just yet." They both laughed at the idea of it. Andre continued to stare in awe at Daryl.

Not wanting to make things awkward, Daryl glanced over to the other side of the room and waved them in that direction with his fake claws. "Y'all in the mood for some trick-or-treatin'?" Andre nodded and the woman smiled down at him. "We got some stuff goin' on over in the next room that maybe they need Gambit and Storm to come check out." Daryl glanced back over to the pretty, sexily-costumed woman for permission to lead them away. The little boy had already started pulling at his mother's hand.

"You heard Wolverine. Let's go, Peanut."

They worked their way through the crowd, drawing quite a few delighted glances from the other party-goers. Daryl turned back to his two new companions to make sure they were still in tow.

"What brings you to the party?" she asked. "You live in the neighborhood?" Normally, he'd be really defensive about that kind of question, like she might be asking because he didn't look like he belonged. Yet he didn't get that this woman was like that. She seemed a straight-shooter; she sounded curious, not judgmental.

"Naw, I live 'bout twenty minutes from here. Got talked into it by some folks who work 'round here—Rick Grimes and Carol Peletier who runs this place.

"Oh, I think I met her. And I know Rick from work. I see him around the courthouse."

"You a cop too?"

She laughed. "Lawyer."

Daryl felt the tug of his attraction again. Smart and gorgeous. And way out of his league. Besides, she had a kid, which meant she probably had a man already.

"Actually, Rick invited me too. I'm new to this neighborhood and, the last time I ran into him, he thought it'd be a nice way to meet some people. Things have been hectic with the move and getting my son settled between me and my ex—" She'd gotten caught up in their conversation, and for the first time, she looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I'm over-sharing."

"It's cool," he offered, a small grin at his mouth. And it really was—he wanted to know more. And the best part was that she'd let slip that she had a recent ex. Not that he had any clue about what to do with that information. Dealing with women wasn't exactly a strong point for him.

They entered the area where all the kids were gathered and Andre quickly lost interest in Daryl and stared at all the decorations and treats and other kids running around. He looked up at his mother, failing miserably to hide his agitation and itching to join in the fray. She dropped his hand and nodded; the little boy wasted no time in taking off into the throng of revelry but remained nearby so as not to get in trouble.

Turning back to Daryl, she smiled a thank you for the escort. "I know you know me as Storm, but you can call me Michonne." She held her hands behind her back, not offering a handshake, which Daryl always found uncomfortable and overly formal anyway. Besides, his Wolverine claws would have made that even more awkward than normal.

"Daryl," he said simply. He met her gaze and felt his expression soften at the acceptance and friendliness he picked up from her. He reached up to scratch his chin with his fake claws and flinched at the bright flash that hit his eyes.

They both turned to find Maggie Greene sauntering off with her camera, a smug expression on her face as she retreated. "You guys look great!" she called over her shoulder. Daryl rolled his eyes at the girl who he ran into every now and then around town. Michonne just looked bemused.

"I guess we do," Michonne said to him after the woman had disappeared into the crowd. Andre ran up to her to deposit a handful of treats into the pail she held and then ran back over to the crowd of children in the corner. Daryl caught sight of Asskicker in the group too with one of Carol's assistants, and Maggie's sister, Beth, looking out for the group.

Daryl shuffled uncomfortably. "Whatever." He downed the remainder of his punch. Cutting his eyes to her he finally asked, "You want punch or something? It's terrible but it aint the worst or nothin'." One of the refreshment tables was set up a few feet away so they could grab something while still keeping an eye on her son.

Michonne eyed him for a moment, scrutinizing his interest. She then nodded, satisfied, and turned towards the table. "Let's do it, Wolverine."

Without thinking, he reached up to nudge her in the shoulder for the jest, forgetting about his makeshift claws. Instead of reaching her shoulder, his claws caught in her hair; the turn of her head and his quick attempts to extricate himself caused the strands to entangle even further into his costume. He put his hand on her shoulder to stop her and they silently worked to remove his "hand" from her locks.

"Sorry," he mumbled, face blazing and insecurity pulsing inside him.

Looking over her shoulder, she only smiled at him. The vision of her in profile with the magnificent mohawk and beautiful line to her neck, got his hormones stirred up again.

"Accidents happen. It seems you don't know your own power, Daryl."

This time he did nudge her and then freed himself completely. He moved to her side and they proceeded to fill and refill their cups in comfortable silence. They shared a bowl of chips as they watched the kids play; Rick joined them a few moments afterward and then Daryl looked on as Michonne joined the gaggle of kids at play. After a while, she shed her long leather coat to run around more freely in only the sleek, black outfit underneath, looking every bit the warrior that she channeled. She was really good with the kids too, the little ones and the older ones if Carl's immediate affection was any indication.

Daryl stood next to Carol watching everything play out as his friend encouraged her daughter Sophia to keep trying at the bobbed apple tank.

Noticing the direction of Daryl's attention, she said, "You still mad I dragged you here."

"Yeah," he replied pushing into her gently. "But I'll forgive you this time."

They stood silently, Carol biding her time before saying what had come to mind. "She seems really nice. And she likes you. You should get to know her."

Daryl got antsy at the directness of her suggestion, not an usual thing for his friend but still not something he'd always be comfortable with. "I don't know."

She shrugged. "Well, when in doubt. Ask yourself, 'What would Wolverine do." She laughed and left him to his ogling.

* * *

><p>"And that was the first day of forever," Glenn mused, dramatically. Michonne shot him a glare and Daryl threw a pillow at him. The younger man returned the framed picture he'd been looking at to the mantle—it was the picture his wife Maggie had taken of them in costume from that night they met.<p>

Daryl turned to Michonne and pulled at her now graying hair. "I guess you do look a little more like that picture these days." She swatted at his hand and tried to scoot away from him on the couch, but he caught her and pulled her back to his side.

"I don't know if I've forgiven our 'friends' for all the meddling they did back in those days. Remember how we were both too chicken to connect at that party, and then Rick tricked us into accidentally running into each other at the courthouse in Hershel's chambers?"

Rick laughed. "And I'm not sorry so you can keep your bitterness. In fact, it's one of the best scams I ever ran." Michonne scoffed reluctantly, and Daryl grinned over at his friend, probably in complete agreement. "I mean, it worked, right?"

"It worked alright," Daryl confirmed. "Got me a date out of it."

"That _I_ had to ask for," Michonne added.

"That's not how I remember it. It was more a mutual understanding."

Michonne turned to face him. "If 'mutual understanding' means that I asked you to grab a coffee while you hemmed hawed, and then you mumbled something like 'sure, why not,' then, yes, your recollection is spot on."

"I was just being subtle, talkin' you up to it and waitin' for my moment. Aint my fault you got it in your head to take over."

"Right," Michonne said, leaning back into the couch.

A few moments ago, Daryl had come down from putting the babies to bed and Michonne had finished cleaning up the kitchen with a bit of help from Carl. The rest of the group—Rick, Carol, Andrea, Glenn, Maggie and Tyreese sat spread around the room filled with empty plastic bags and random candy, scraps of costume, and stray decorations. Another Halloween come and gone.

Michonne sighed and laid her head on Daryl's shoulder. "Tired, Babe?" he asked.

"I'm getting too old for all this. We already went through this with our kids. Shouldn't we be off duty with the grandkids?"

Carol laughed. "Then you should stop being the most fun house on the block for the holiday. You've got a reputation to keep up." Michonne chuckled.

"'Sides, it's good to give the grown folks a day off to do their own party stuff every now and then." Usually Andre and Lil'Mich would be part of the trick-or-treat festivities, but Daryl had convinced them to take the evening off for themselves after dropping their kids off with the grandparents and making sure they had what they needed.

"We're the grown folks!" Rick protested.

"Aint no cause for complainin', Grimes. Your ass volunteered to be here."

"I did," he admitted. "But that's only because it's always good to see what you two come up with."

"It's true, Andrea added. "You get the house all decorated nice and make the best snacks for the neighborhood. And you guys have always had the best costumes. I don't know how you think of this stuff."

Michonne shook her head, looking down at her hospital scrubs spattered with fake blood. "I'm afraid this year is a bit of a bust. No time to prep. Maybe next year."

"I think my favorite is the Mad Max one. Daryl looks pretty apocalyptic every day, so he didn't have to do too much different from his usual winning routine," Maggie said. Daryl shrugged since she wasn't wrong about that. "But Michonne as Aunty Entity was amazing. The chain-mail dress, the earrings, the hair! It was magical."

"I agree," Daryl said, leering at Michonne. "That was a good year."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, I liked the year we did a Star Trek theme for the neighborhood party. Remember, Daryl? You dressed as Worf and I went as Jadzia Dax."

Daryl shook his head. "Oh I remember. Only a bunch of geeks knew who we were supposed to be."

"Just because you had never heard of them doesn't mean that other people didn't recognize us. Everybody knows Worf—and you made an excellent Worf with that bad attitude of yours." She tugged at the gray goatee he still insisted on sporting. "I loved that costume because _our daughter_ suggested it and then painted all those Trill spots on my face and neck." Michonne smiled at the memory as she explained to the rest of the group. "She'd been so insistent that we use gold so her 'artwork' would show up better. And I tied my hair back and had the whole look going on just as she'd planned." Lil'Mich had been so excited about the project and beamed with pride at seeing the finished product.

"I guess you did look kinda cute like that even if I had to wear that stupid get-up with the sash." The group laughed, recalling that year as well.

Rick joined in with his own remembrance. "Y'all also did that one where you switched places, with Daryl playing at being the lawyer. You got all clean-shaven and spruced up with your slicked-back hair and suit, and carrying that briefcase. You looked pretty damn respectable, I gotta say."

"And also pretty damn sexy," said Michonne, stroking his leg. Daryl didn't reply but took her hand and kissed it.

"Oh yeah," Glenn said, grinning at the memory. "And Michonne dressed up as a redneck with her baggy pants and cut up shirt and Daryl's crossbow strapped onto her back."

"You looked so cute with your little pregnant belly sticking out and swimming in Daryl's beat up vest," Andrea added.

Groaning, Michonne shook her head. "Little? I was huge. It was barely two weeks later when Little Miss Dixon made her appearance. And that crossbow was so heavy."

"Yeah and you made me carry that thing the entire time. Ruined my whole look."

She smacked him in the leg. "I'm sorry the strain of carrying your child inside my body inconvenienced you." Daryl put his hand up in surrender, knowing that arguing the point would get him nowhere.

"What about the time they went as the figure skater and hockey player," Tyreese offered.

Michonne cackled. "Daryl lost a bet on that one. He was supposed to be a figure skater with me, but he chickened out and I compromised."

Daryl shook his head. "Wasn't no way you were gonna get me in that dumb outfit."

"Awww, you would have looked cute in it, Daryl." Carol reached around and tousled his hair, which was as full and shaggy as ever, and just as gray as Michonne's.

"Aint tryin' to be cute. And it would have looked ridiculous."

"Well, you dodged that bullet so stop complaining," Michonne said. She sighed again. "I guess we did come up with some good ones, didn't we?" Daryl draped an arm around her and squeezed. "And now we're old and gray and almost no fun anymore. We haven't put that much thought into our costumes in years."

"You'll come up with something good for next year," Carl said. He'd been sitting silently watching the rest of them reminisce. His baby daughter had an ear infection and had stayed home with his wife. But she'd insisted he drop by to hang out with his family, even for a little while. With Judith now settled at her new job in New York, he'd instead been sticking close to home lately. "We should have known you'd end up together when you met wearing the perfect couples costume."

Everyone laughed at that. "Even by accident, y'all couldn't help being a united front from the start," Rick said.

"Damn right," Daryl said. He kissed the side of Michonne's head to the chorus of heckling and catcalls.

_Fini_


End file.
